The Thing About Affairs
by angelically-devilish
Summary: Just one night, Draco," she said softly. "It’s New Year’s Eve. He’s working. He’s always working. I just want one night that I can hold in my head and keep me sane until the one day I won’t be able to take it anymore." Draco/Ginny


_This is my submission for the TE Challenge Fic for January!_

_Prompts: snow__; Fiendfyre_

_Pairing: Draco/Ginny_

_Quote: "Why me?"_

_Theme: New Year's_

_It's been a rough couple of months, but hopefully I'll be updating things a lot quicker now. Thanks to Amy (GVSL) for putting up with my many, many, MANY neuroses.  
_

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The Thing About Affairs**

"Why me?"

"Why not?"

"Well…not that it's not a particularly tempting offer, but I was under the impression that you didn't like me much."

"You'll find that that doesn't matter so very much in terms of sex."

Draco Malfoy gazed at the creature before him, all long limbs and smooth, freckled skin. She really was a goddess – a proverbial lioness in a den filled with prey. On her deliciously slim body she wore an expensive chiffon cocktail dress, the emerald hue of which brought out the flecks of hazel in her blue eyes. Her long legs were crossed, strong thighs exposed from the tall oak barstool upon which she sat. A martini glass sat next to her on the bar, her manicured fingers leisurely stirring the smoking red concoction with the cherry the bartender had placed in the glass with an unreturned wink.

This wasn't the first time the two of them had met for drinks. In fact, for the past few months the two had been meeting more and more frequently, usually for a drink or two, though very few words ever passed between them. Even though Ginny had orchestrated the meetings, she seemed content to sit in comfortable silence with him.

That was, until she asked him if he would go to bed with her.

"Let's pretend for a moment that I'm going to go along with this preposterous proposal of yours," Draco said, trying to ignore the scrap of tantalizing black silk that teased him as she re-crossed her legs. "How do you possibly expect to get away with it? You have the press on your heels everywhere you go. _Witch Weekly_ and the _Daily Prophet_ have whole teams that are solely responsibly for following you and Potter. I mean…"

"Draco, honestly," she interrupted, a coy little smile playing on her lips. "What type of witch do you take me for anyway?"

With a wink and a smirk, she finished her drink – popping the cherry seductively between her lips and giving a pull on the stem that did funny things to his lower half – and slid off the bar stool. The bartender, eager to see where the beautiful young witch was going, found himself disappointed as she threw a few galleons on the bar top and walked away to fetch her cloak.

It took exactly five seconds for Draco to make it from his own bar stool to follow the intriguing woman.

"Why?" he asked when he rounded the corner to see her slipping on her fur-trimmed cloak, another expensive present from her less-than-attentive husband.

She turned to him.

"Why what?" she replied.

"Why would you do this?"

She sighed, waiting for him to put his own cloak on before they exited into the gently-drifting snow.

"The thing about affairs is that they rarely have just one reason for beginning," she said. "Though usually they have one very good reason for ending."

"So why do you want to start having one?"

"Because my last one ended precisely the way you'd expect one to end, and I'd like to start anew."

Draco's brow furrowed. He had heard rumours – whispers, really, that whipped around the wizarding world like Fiendfyre – that the Great Harry Potter had not acclimated to peace the way people thought he would. He was an Auror – one of the best – but with that came late nights, long days, and an unrivalled exhaustion that would keep any young bride in a state of perpetual frustration.

"What do you think Potter will say when he finds out?" Draco heard himself asking.

Ginny looked at him.

"_When_ he finds out?" she asked, her tone so soft that Draco knew he was approaching dangerous territory.

"I meant _if_. _If_ he finds out?"

Ginny regarded him for a moment before shrugging.

"Quite honestly, I don't think he'd care. He didn't when he found out about Dean."

"Yes, but I'm not Dean," Draco said, stopping her once more by putting his hands on her shoulders. "Ginny, I'm not saying that these past few months of getting to know you and slowly coming to tolerate each other haven't been progress, but if Potter finds out I'm screwing you, he might…"

"Care?" she finished, her blue eyes filling with unshed tears and Draco finally saw what she had been so careful to hide for so long.

"Do you really think this is the way?" he asked softly.

"Do you have a better idea?" she asked, her voice fragile and bitter. For the first time, Draco saw the shattered woman she had become, her face a canvas of vulnerability that stared at him through cool, almost soulless eyes.

He had seen what that type of repressed pain could do to a person. And he didn't want that to happen to her.

"Ginny…" he started but she shook her head, placing her hand on his chest as a single tear ran down her cheek.

"Just one night, Draco," she said softly. "It's New Year's Eve. He's working. He's always working. I just want one night that I can hold in my head and keep me sane until the one day I won't be able to take it anymore."

"What am I going to say to Astoria? She's expecting me home any minute now to celebrate."

Ginny blinked up at him, and he knew in his heart that Astoria didn't really care where he was in the dead of night on New Year's Eve. They didn't have that type of marriage. It was of convenience, and perhaps mutual respect, but definitely not love or devotion. Those were things fairy tales were made of.

"Alright," he said, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Hold tight."

The breathlessness of apparition left them both panting when they arrived in a dark wooded area, nearly pitch black save a dim glow ahead through the trees. Draco grasped blindly for the hand of his companion, praying that no one had had the same idea he had. Use of the family cabin in Scotland was rare these days, as most of the family was either dead, in Azkaban, or trying to rebuild a social network in London. Still, there were moments of unpredictability known within the Malfoy clan, though Draco hoped he was the only one deciding to be unpredictable that night.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked softly as they weaved through the trees toward the cabin.

"My family's house on Loch Linnhe in Scotland."

"Is…is your house _glowing_."

"Security precautions. It glows when there are people about. Makes the place look habitable."

"And is it?"

Draco didn't answer, choosing instead to lower the wards and enter the house to see for themselves. Aside from being a bit dusty, however, there was nothing dark and sinister lurking in the corners and as Draco led Ginny by the hand up the stairs, he felt a jolt in the pit of his stomach that came both from the knowledge that he was going to possess this beautiful woman, but also the fact that he was doing so behind the back of the man who he regarded not as an enemy, but far less than a friend.

The sound of a distant explosion made them both jump, the quiet had been so penetrating. But as Draco glanced at his watch, he smiled slightly to himself. Midnight. A whole new year. Dim colours from far-away fireworks painted their faces as they glanced out of the windows into the distant black that was peppered with light.

"Everyone seems so happy that time is passing," Ginny said softly.

"Aren't you?" Draco asked.

"Another year, another month, another week, another minutes…it all adds up to the same sort of loneliness," she replied, her voice cracking with barely restrained emotion.

Tilting her head up to face him, Draco gazed into the cool blue pools in front of him, wishing he had the heart, the soul, the _will power_ to deny her what she craved. What he craved too. But as her lips parted, her cheeks damp from spilt tears, Draco knew that there was no turning back as he pressed his lips to hers.

There was no passionate grasping as the two tumbled into the dusty bed in the closest bedroom Draco had managed to move them into. There was no frenzied need or frantic tugging of cloth. Draco kissed her as though it was going to be their last kiss; touched her as if her skin was the most delicate thing he had ever felt beneath his fingers. She kissed him back with the same, unhurried need, her body arching into him as his hands ran up and down her body.

Somewhere in the slow, tender motions, Draco managed to light two of the wall sconces, their light causing dancing shadows along the walls as their bodies moved in the darkness. Draco ran his hand through her hair, feeling the silky strands beneath his touch before finding the zipper of her dress, bringing it down her back and letting it slide down her skin, revealing inch after agonizing inch of creamy flesh.

Her fingers moved to the neck of his Oxford shirt, slowly unbuttoning it as they kissed softly, her lips barely ghosting over his but making him breathless at the same time. He wondered how she could have such an effect on him, but somehow knew that in spite of their rivalry at school, he had been well-aware of just how attractive Ginny Potter – née Weasley – had always been.

"Touch me, Draco," she whispered into the darkness as the dress and shirt slipped off their bodies to fall on the floor. Her heels followed, making a deafening clatter amidst the silence of nature. She lay nearly naked in front of him, her breasts bared, a smattering of freckles across the full peaks, her nipples begging for his attention. Her torso was long and lean, barely an inch of fat, that led down to slim hips covered by a sexy pair of black panties.

The blonde man ran his hands down her body, the silky texture of her skin making him growl in anticipation. His lips followed quickly, his teeth skimming a line down to her breasts before taking a straining nipple between his teeth. She arched her back and groaned, gripping the back of his head to keep him there before he moved to the other breast, receiving the same response.

His hands continued their journey southward, his palms laying flat against her belly before slowly rolling the panties down her legs. He inhaled deeply, the smell of her musk mixing with the intoxicating scent of her perfume that had crept into his senses long before she had requested this. Kissing up her neck, he captured her lips once more as he lowered his body between her legs.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, the words so simple yet sincere as he took her in.

She smiled slightly.

"You are overdressed."

Giving a slight chuckle, Draco sat back in order to allow her to unbuckle his belt, her nimble fingers unbuttoning his trousers and snaking inside to stroke his length. He groaned, letting his arms hold himself above her body as his head fell against her shoulder, willing himself not to pump his hips into her knowing grasp.

Within moments, his clothes were gone and Draco was once more settled between her thighs, gazing down at the redheaded witch that he was slowly coming to both admire and pity at the same time. It was an odd mix, to feel pity and admiration and overwhelming lust at the same time, but as he thrust inside her hot, tight, wet body, he knew that that was where he belonged, if only for a moment.

"Draco…" she breathed, her arms coiling around his neck as he started to move, her legs wrapping around his waist as she quickly caught his rhythm. He tried not to concentrate on how good they felt together, or how well she seemed to know him. He tried not to think that this could possibly be the last time he would ever see her, leaning in and once again kissing her as though it was the last time he would ever kiss her.

They moved together to several climaxes that night, falling asleep in a tangle of limbs as the moonlight filtered through the room. He held her close, falling asleep to the feeling of her breathing against him. It had been the most satisfied he had ever felt.

He wasn't surprised, however, to find her gone the next morning.

Astoria didn't ask any questions when he returned home later that day, nor did she say anything about his absence the night before. Draco immediately went to their room to shower, trying to forget the feelings that had stirred within him the night before from the woman he could never, ever truly have.

It wasn't until several months later that he caught a glimpse of her again. She had been with her friends in Diagon Alley, her head tilted back in laughter at something Ron's wife, Luna, had said. Granger was with them, though Draco had no real interest in learning what had happened to his know-it-all classmate. But Ginny had been radiant, the sun catching the golden highlights in her hair as she walked by him without a word.

That night, however, as he sat in his study with a glass of firewhisky, a pale grey owl swooped in through the cracked window to drop an envelope in his lap.

"_The thing about affairs__,"_ the note said in her familiar, friendly scrawl, _"Is sometimes you try to walk away, but find that you can't._

"_I'll be in our forest by our cabin near our loch. I hope you come and find me."_

Draco stood immediately, stuffing the note in his pocket before downing the rest of his drink and grabbing his cloak.

He didn't bother to say good-bye to his wife.

The moment he apparated he knew she was there. He could feel her.

"The thing about affairs," he heard her whispered behind him, and turned to see her looking up at him with a smile, "Is they're never a good idea."

"No, I don't suppose they are," he said with a small smile of his own.

"I suppose there are…exceptions to that rule?" she asked.

"The thing about affairs," he said, sweeping her into his arms. "Is that there are no rules."

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_Thanks for reading. It's not my usual fare (in terms of pairing or genre) but I hope you liked it._


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